Books I Need To Stop Kidding Myself That I'll Read
Suniverse loves to read, and is an inveterate list-maker. Sometimes her lists include finishing those books that are taunting me, sitting on her bookshelf, bookmark in place, unread. Somehow, she always manages to find something else to do. See what she's up to at The Suniverse.
1. My Life by Bill Clinton. I got this as soon as it came out. Say what you will about Bill Clinton, but he is a fascinating man. You can disagree with his politics; you can disagree with his whoring around; you can even disagree with his predilection for fast food, but you cannot disagree that this guy is amazing. I find myself intrigued by him, almost mesmerized. Bill Clinton IS a rock star – engaging, charismatic, a little bit dirty. But, man, that book? I’m stuck on page 84. I already feel like I know most everything about Bill, so what’s the point? I tell myself it’ll go quickly,that I like Bill, that it will hold my interest. But it just doesn’t. It’s like he was the mayor of Dullsville and decided to bore people to death with his book.
2. Middlemarch by George Eliot. I have started reading this book at least three times. And each time, I get a couple of hundred pages in and . . . I can’t do it. I can’t finish it. I, who have a graduate degree in English Literature, who read Tristam Shandy without fear, who has re-read Thackeray’s Vanity Fair TWICE, I cannot get through this book. I give up. I just set it aside, with my nice, fancy bookmark stuck between the pages, and I walk away. It’s too hard to bring myself to care about Dorothea Brooke. It’s in the canon, I tell myself. It’s by a WOMAN, I tell myself. It’s a treatise on societal expectations in nineteenth century England – my favorite thing! But it sucks. Eliot did a better job with Silas Marner, which only felt like it was 880 pages long.
3. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. I admit it. I jumped on the bandwagon. I heard nothing but raves about this book – about how smart and edgy and engrossing it is. So I checked it out from the library. Twice. And couldn’t finish it. Couldn’t get past page 127, actually. There is nothing to this book. It is boring and the “hero” is a tool. It reminds me of the DaVinci Code, except I could at least slog through that. I made myself take it to the gym, hoping that if I was trapped on the bike or treadmill I’d read it. Instead, I found myself staring off into the distance, wondering whythis book sucked so bad and if society was playing a trick on me by praising it. I almost tried to finish it a third time, when my husband read it, but he said it was boring and I shouldn’t waste my time. I think this is one of those times I’ll listen to my husband.
Ways the universe messes with me
While I wouldn't call myself superstitious, I'm half Irish. Which means I'm superstitious. Forthwith are ways in which I believe the universe messes with me on a regular basis.
Faulty electronics. Back before I got married and changed my name, I was party to The Townsley Curse, which involved the frequent breaking of telephones and televisions. Luckily that's hasn't carried over. My parents, however, still fall victim. In fact, their months-old TV had to be repaired just last week.
Hurting myself when I'm specifically trying not to hurt myself. I found an old brooch on the floor today (my 2-year-old found it in a jewelry box), and I stooped to pick it up for fear he'd stab himself. I promptly stabbed myself under the fingernail, torture-style.
That time I had two major car accidents in two different cars on the same day. So that only happened once, but that was a major clusterF--- courtesy of the universe that I will never forgive the universe for.
Inappropriate seasonal feelings. Ever feel Christmasey in late July? How about a hankering for the beach in December? Happens to me every year.
How does the universe screw with you?
Posted by Erin of The Fierce Beagle
Things That Everyone WANTS to do but are Still Generally Frowned Upon in the Workplace
Naps under your desk--Everyone has contemplated grabbing a quick nap under his or her desk on a long, tiring workday. So why is it such a big deal if you ARE taking a nap under your desk and your boss finds out? Hm?
Sick days for hangovers--Again, you'd probably get in big trouble if you missed some project because you had unwisely spent the Tuesday night before downing tacos and Tequila for a friend's birthday party. Lame.
Leaving early (or not showing up at all) when the weather is beautiful--We have SNOW days for excessive snow (at least here in the Midwest), why not have SUN days? Makes sense to me.
Yelling really loud and screaming swear words when you hurt yourself in public--OW! CRAP! @#$*@! Excuse me, I just stubbed my toe. Fortunately, I was in the privacy of my own home and no one minded that I just took your mother's name in vain. But if I happened to be out in public and stubbed my toe, I would be expected to just go pale, bite my lip and bow my head as though praying a long, painful prayer. This method is not NEARLY as effective in eradicating one's pain, but we're expected to swallow those F-bombs, nonetheless.
What else?
Posted by The Naked Redhead
Completely Insignificant Skills I'm Weirdly Good At
Dude, millions of people can run marathons, pick rocketing stocks and write best-seller novels. But how many of those dudes can name all the US presidents in under 45 seconds? Oh, most of them? REGARDLESS. Here are a few more completely useless skills I'm always mildly surprised to remember I have.
Using chopsticks like an ace. This is really only impressive because my hands are big ol' clumsy bearpaws. I'd trade this one in immediately for hands that don't force glovemakers to "see what we have in the back room."
Predicting trends way too far in advance. A year and a half ago, everyone thought I was crazy for investing in structured hats, feather fascinators and fluorescent nail polish. Heads up? Once the economy turns back around, fringe will be back in a big way.
Sticking people with permanent nicknames. Too bad I can't seem to give myself one I like. No matter how often I ask my friends to call me "Ol' Rough and Ready" or "Napoleon of the Stump," for some reason, they never catch on.
Shooting a gun. Like Elvis Costello, my aim is true. Unlike Elvis Costello, I'm not secretly a jewel thief.
Fixing jams in copiers. Ohhh, that's why I'm a secretary.
These may never get me on America's Got Talent, but hey, at least next time I'm playing Truth or Dare, I won't have to resort to the ol' Molly Ringwald lipstick-in-cleave trick. What are you surprisingly good at, loves?
Posted by TKOG from Not That Kind of Girl.
Famous Dudes/Ladies I'd Like to Chill With, but not Bone
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1. Hugh Laurie--Dude is hilarious. He's also a talented musician and writer. I'd like to sit at a cafe sometime with him and people watch and make snarky comments.
2. Duff, the Ace of Cakes--Funny, somewhat childish...and BAKES. We could have an inside joke about fondant, I think. And I know he likes a good beer.
3. David Sedaris--He's neurotic, loves story telling, and leans toward the macabre. We'd watch surgeries on TV together, while eating a huge pile of spaghetti.
4. Amy Poehler and Tina Fey--I'd like to see how ridiculous things could get while hanging out with these two. Oh, and hey, now they're both stressed-out mothers, so you know they know how to UNWIND.
5. Caroline from the Real Housewives of New Jersey--Okay, not that I'd ever, EVER watch something as trashy as the Real Housewives (cough, cough) but if I DID, I'd totally want to be friends with Caroline. She's sharp, witty, has raised good kids, and seems to have a little more depth than your average housewife. We'd bond over wine, and she'd counsel me on my life and then offer me a sandwich.
What famous dudes/ladies would you like to have a platonic relationship with?
Posted by The Naked Redhead
Careers I Would Never Attempt (despite the allure of imagining a salary above the Section 8 "very low income" bracket)
Not too many girls, it occurs to me, gaze dreamily into the distance at the age of eight and sigh, "After four years of expensive private education, oh gosh, I hope I become a secretary!" At least I know I didn't. Still, all things considered, I'd rather answer phones and make coffee for the next sixty years than attempt any of the following jobs.
Lawyer: I like the idea of tinkering with words every day, but, dude, if anyone ever expects me to have an informed opinion on federalism, I'll punch 'em. Then they will sue me. But joke's on you, lawyer-dudes, 'cause this lady is broke!
Salesperson: Things I feel qualified to make decisions about: puns and portmanteaux; John Cusack's hotness; the enduring relevance of "To Kill a Mockingbird" in America's ever-changing social milieu. Things I do not feel qualified to make decisions about: your money and how you spend it.
Consultant: What do they even do?! Please, somebody tell me.
Game Show Host: Do you think Pat Sajak really wanted to be Pat Sajak? How many years do you think it took before he resigned himself to a lifetime of making jocular little banalities about consonants and vowels? Lord please help me never find out first-hand.
Billionaire: Large quantities of money make me nervous. Guess I'm in the right industry after all..
What jobs are at the bottom of your career aptitude tests?
Posted by TKOG from Not That Kind of Girl.
Five Domestic Guilty Pleasures
Sarah is a compulsive traveler, currently driving her big ole hippy van across Canada. Her travel stories and confessions of all the stupid and embarrassing things she accidentally (but somehow always) manages to do are shared on her blog, Raggedy Threads. Along with lists, she is addicted to books, americanos, vegetable gardens and the ocean.
Vacuuming a dark carpet that has light coloured lint on it. Watching the carpet transform from obviously dirty to wonderfully clean in a few swift movements of the arm is so satisfying. I also enjoy hearing crunchy things get sucked up, like cookie crumbs or dried mud.
Emptying the dryer lint trap. I especially like cleaning it before I dry a load, and then checking it immediately afterwards to see how much lint my clothes produced. It's extra satisfying to launder items that have been around pets (dog hair shows up like a hot damn in the lint trap) or items that were particularly dusty (blankets left in the car for several years come to mind).
Re-organizing the fridge. It always looks so dark and crowded in there, and yet I can never find anything to eat. If I pull up a chair and start sorting I can usually find several mystery tupperwares, a few pounds of inedible vegetables, and three or four packaged items long since expired. I also usually unearth some exciting treat I'd purchased and forgotten about. So I end up with a clean fridge with lots of space AND tasty food to eat.
Cleaning the bathroom mirror. Take some spray cleaner and a couple of paper towels to all those little fingerprints and toothpaste/flossing flecks and just scrub the heck out of it. Usually this involves a good dose of what my dad called “elbow grease”, so I feel like I'm getting an upper body work out as well. Fun!
Watering houseplants. I love slowly pouring the water on the dry soil and watching it hover there for a few seconds before it gets sucked in. If I'm really lucky then moments later it starts to collect in the little tray the plant sits on. I realize this probably means I'm not watering my plants enough, but hey, I never claimed to be a botanist. I don't love keeping plants alive and healthy. It's just the water absorbyness that fills me with glee.
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Things that make me feel strangely powerful
I wouldn't call myself the most assertive person in the world. I'll engage in a confrontation, but only when pushed to the limit. There are a few things, though, that make me feel like I am a woman to be reckoned with.
Mowing the lawn. The lawnmower is the closest thing to a deadly weapon I'm willing to operate. The fact that I know how to maintain it, and that I get sweaty while Dominating the Lawn with it, makes me feel strong and capable.
Shopping by myself. So I'm not exactly Calamity Jane. But there's just something empowering about going out on my own as an informed consumer. Also, buying stuff is fun.
Solo airline travel. Bonus points for wearing a cute but practical outfit and maintaining a cool demeanor.
What makes you feel powerful?
Posted by Erin of The Fierce Beagle
Cute Little Things I Want to Put in My Pocket (but probably shouldn't)
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Chipmunks--Aren't chipmunks the cutest ever? I want to keep one in my pocket all the time. Somehow, I think it'd be frowned upon at work.
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What would you like to put in your pocket (but probably shouldn't)?
Posted by The Naked Redhead
Stuff I Know You're Supposed To Do But, Look Guys, I'm Just Not Gonna
Wear a ribbon to support a cause. "Frig, I know there was something I was supposed to do today. What was it?! [looks down at shirt] Oh yeah! Hate testicular cancer! I knew I was forgetting something."
Canvas door-to-door to support a candidate or proposition. You know what I like to do the second I get home? Immediately strip off all my clothes and sing along to showtunes while eating super-chunky peanut butter out of the jar. You know what I don't like to do? Talk to strangers about my political convictions. I'd imagine most people feel the same way.
Bring in doughnuts for the office. Or any other baked treats, for that matter. Not because I don't love my co-workers (I do) or showing off my pie-baking skills (oh man, I really do), but because I'm petrified that no one would eat them. No way am I going to risk being That Girl who has to carry an untouched plate of Cootie Cookies back home on the subway 'cause no one wanted them.
The Dracula Sneeze. I don't really have an excuse for not doing this one. It's hygienic, it's got a cool name, and the reduced hand contamination is slowly helping erode my fear of lending pens. But dudes who do the Dracula must have some sort of sneeze-related ESP, 'cause I never feel one coming with enough warning to assume the posish. Guess I'm fated to another 24 years of surreptitiously wiping snot off on the legs of my jeans.
Read Ulysses. Hey James Joyce. Eat me.
Biggest Thrills of the Great Reno Balloon Race
Rebecca Wikler is a blogger and public relations and advertising professional in Reno. She’s sassy and silly and loves to learn. And of course she is a list addict. Read about what she does, check out her blog or follow her on twitter.
In Reno, special event season is the best time of the year. From May through September, there literally is not a weekend that goes by where there isn’t something special and unique to do. The Great Reno Balloon Race is by far my FAVORITE event of the year, because there’s really nothing like it. In true List Addict style, here are the things that top my list of what I love about the Balloon Race:
· Wearing pajamas in public and not being judged for it
· Getting cozy under a sleeping bag, waiting for the glow show and dawn patrol to start
· The fact that it’s completely free for everyone to enjoy, thanks to its many generous sponsors
· Knowing that basically the entire city is here, celebrating the same thing at the same time
· Seeing three generations of balloon race lovers enjoy the event together
· The chills I get when the national anthem is sung as the first balloon lifts off
· Champagne in the morning
· Funnel cake for breakfast (when else is that even appropriate?!)
· The awe seen in a child's face the first time they see a hot-air balloon (I can’t wait until my niece and nephew are old enough to come up from Las Vegas have their minds blown)
· The fact that if I get too close to the hot-air balloon, I might be asked to help
What do you love about the Balloon Race? Share your memories here. If you’ve never been, I highly suggest you check it out!
More Life Instructions
Wouldn't it be great to get laminated copies made of this and put them in subways and public bathrooms? Where're My Keys? Here They Are. Er, Where're my Keys? (also titled: I Don't Have OCD, I Swear)
Look, I have never been diagnosed with OCD, but I have found that as I get older, I have weird things that need to be "just so" or I get all wigged out. Here are a few:
My car keys--I KNOW I just pulled them out of the ignition and put them in my purse. That doesn't mean I won't check, double check, and re-check for them before I actually lock and close the door.
Locking the house at night--Again, I KNOW I just turned the knob to lock up. I clearly remember doing it...but there I go again, padding through the house in my lovely nighttime attire to check one last time before bed. (And sheesh, it's not like a deadbolt is going to keep someone out who really wants to get in.)
Making the bed with freshly washed sheets--The only time I ever strive to make the bed absolutely perfectly is right after I've washed and dried all the bedding. And then, it doesn't matter if I'm going to get into said bed mere minutes after making it...it must. be. perfect. Hospital corners? Check. All pillows accounted for? Check. Top sheet folded over just so? Check and double check. Weird.
Labels out--Yeah, I like to see what's in my cupboards, so what? Is it so wrong that I also prefer everything to be arranged by size, brand and type of food. Is it? IS IT?
OK, enough about me...what are slightly OCD things YOU do? (Please, make me feel better!)
Posted by The Naked Redhead
Awful Decisions I Habitually Make
The Truth Behind Ridiculous Nail Polish Colors
Sadako is a twenty-something New York City denizen. She enjoys children and YA lit, making fun of bad movies, and blogging at Dibbly Fresh.
Sugar Daddy. A light shade of pink perfect for French manicures. For the kept woman who's a coarse Amy Fisher at heart, but whose kindhearted benefactor is trying to teach her the finer things in life. What wine to drink with filet mignon. How to pronounce Nabokov. And of course, to wear nail polish that beautifies but that doesn't scream I KNOW HEIDI FLEISS'S PERSONAL NUMBER.
Thigh high. A deep bold red. For the woman whose only outlet for her sexuality is her nail polish color. I'm talking about the woman who wants to be seen as a little more sultry, but whose most sizzling outfit is the V-neck appliqued kitten sweatshirt.
Room with a View. A shimmery pink. For the college student who thinks regular manicures and having read a volume of E.M. Forster qualify her as a Carrie Bradshaw-esque intellect.
Not Just a Pretty Face. A bland beige. For the Brooklyn hipster whose WASP-y mom withheld funds for more ripped $400 tees unless she got something done about her cuticles, but who rebelled with the the only nail polish title that exuded anything close to irony.
Mauv-ing Along. A rosy red. For the thirtysomething office worker whose sense of humor is summed up by Cathy and who thinks that a Cosmo quiz oozes the risque wit and wisdom of a present day Lenny Bruce. The day she came across this color and laughed so hard she had to pop an Alka-Seltzer should make a high point in her fashion and beauty tumblr blog.
What's the most ridiculous nail polish color in your cosmetics case?
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